


a very weasley holiday.

by delibell



Series: 100 Days of Harry Potter! [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry potter Hogwarts mystery
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hogwarts is not in session, Quidditch, SHOCKER!, Silly, Summer Holiday, The Burrow (Harry Potter), and nothing bad ever happens, bill is an annoying older brother, jacob's sibling is not sad!, oh boy, read for happiness, seriously this is very silly, tonks may or may not have set the shed on fire, xoxo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15279003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delibell/pseuds/delibell
Summary: it’s the summer and the weasley brothers have invited some of their friends over to the burrow. one of those friends is (name). charlie really likes her. barnaby, possibly, does too. quidditch, romance, and general shananigans ensue and provide surprising results.[originally posted at my tumblr @delicrieux]





	1. the boy with the now short hair.

Summer holiday has finally started and barely a week has passed since Charlie Weasley last saw you.  _This will not do_ , he had concluded after a few restless nights. The heat was starting to melt his brain, and in frenzy, he had confided in Bill that he wishes to see you. It was fairly amusing, to be honest, as the two oldest siblings were helping mum with gardening and Charlie kept mumbling about something Bill only heard in snippets  _“(Name)…see her…dragons…bloody hell…quidditch….does (Name) like quidditch?…or dragons?…._ ”. After an hour or so of this, Bill dropped his gardening tools and while mum was preoccupied with weeding out some pests he had approached his brother, laid a hand on his shoulder, and grinned mischievously, “Bloody hell Charlie, are you in love or something?”

Charlie had nearly gotten a stroke, there and then. After fumbling with his words, sweating, and blushing, he finally admitted that, “Wouldn’t it be fun…for the whole gang to come visit? Just for a couple of days…”

“Like who?” Bill grilled, hardly containing his glee. Charlie gulped.

“Like…Penny, Tonks, Barnaby…Rowan…( _Name_ ).” His voice grew silent by the word. Bill leaned in.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that last part.”

“Are you serious?”

“No, I’m Bill.”

But eventually, like a good older brother, Bill had eased up on his teasing and promised to invite the whole gang over for a visit. Charlie had beamed, already looking forward to it. Bill had ulterior motives in mind. This new information about a crush had sparked his interest and he swore to himself that he would stop at nothing to embarrass Charlie in front of you. All in good, brotherly fun of course.

Days passed like weeks and the start of July couldn’t come any quicker. Charlie was restless with anticipation. By now he had chatted the whole Burrow off about you and your friends. He was obvious, really, and even Fred and George had secretly started referring to this mysterious (Name) as ‘ _Charlie’s stupid girlfriend’_. Ron was excited. Percy – indifferent. Little Ginny hid at the mere mention of guests coming over.

The day is sunny, cheery, windy. The fields are golden with rye and sway at the lightest touch. Charlie had just landed and hopped off of his broom, an old quaffle in his hand as his hair is a dishevelled mess. Bill already on ground waits for Charlie with a grin plastered onto his face as he notes a group of fifth years being smothered by his mother. Charlie takes in a deep breath and approaches the gang with a silly smile, his brother following suit.

“ _Mum_ …!” Charlie whines, and at his voice Molly gives him a displeased look, but lets Rowan go; his attention then turns to the eager group of classmates, “…Mornin’.”

“Wicked place you got, Charles.” Tonks says as her eyes wander around area, “Were you playing Quidditch? Can we practice later?”

“Sure.” He agrees, glancing at you, “…Hey, (Name).”  You grin at him and he can feel his cheeks heating.

“Quite the hairdo you’ve got there.” You comment. Charlie rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Enjoy it while you can…” Molly mumbles ominously, finally turning to leave, “Come now,  _everyone_! Breakfast is ready!”

The day continues with jests and snickers. Before long, everyone disperses.

Tonks had taken a special interest in Fred and George. She had lured them outside, grinning all the while, as they showed her where the broom closet is and she had borrowed one. The three of them lay on the grass, brooms beside them, discussing pranks and jokes and giggling mischievously at the expense of others. Tonks sometimes sends a look Ron’s way, or Rowan’s, whispering something to the twins only they know about. If the day goes by without a prank pulled, it will truly be a miracle.

Bill and Rowan took Ronald and Ginny under their wing. The shy girl hid behind the second youngest sibling as Rowan ushered her outside to play in the sun. While Bill is preoccupied with teaching Ron to throw, Rowan grasps a hold of little Ginny’s hand, and the said girl blushes behind her ears. The two of walk around the perimeter, casually, in no rush, and sometimes stop to admire some pretty flowers.

Barnaby had made his way to the very top of the Burrow, nestled near attic as he listens to the resident ghost howl and cry. His interest shifts from the closed door to Percy Weasley, curiously watching him with an expression that clearly says ‘ _Are you mad?_ ’, but once he notes Barnaby’s dull stare the younger boy quickly scurries into his room and locks the door behind him. Lost in thought, Barnaby knocks on the attic. The ghost falls silent. A heavy thump echoes from the other side and Barnaby blinks, “ _Hello_? Anyone in there? If you say yes, then I’ll know you are.” While he gets no verbal response, something crashes and wailing follows. Stilled by suspense, he continues to eagerly listen.

You are lounging outside, watching the rye sway as scents of dirt, flowers, and cooking tint the air. Cool wind blows past you, tickling the back of your neck and playing with the strands of your (colour) hair. Your lungs expand with oxygen as you take in a deep breath.  _Relaxing_. Grass pickles your palms and bare legs. You bathe in sunlight. The summer heat collects oils on your skin.

Your eyes shut for a moment. You hope to get a tan. Distant screams of Tonks and the twins greet your ears, that and Bill’s cursing, possibly sniffles from Ronald but you aren’t too sure. You ignore the commotion and let yourself drift away, the noise now a pleasant buzz mixing with chirps and crickets. Before long you feel a presence and soon the grass next to you crunches as someone sits down. You recognise who it is immediately, without having to open your eyes. The earthy scent mixed with ginger makes your heart skip a beat. You tilt your head, grass grazing your cheek as you do, and smile at Charlie. Your eyes fluff open and you are fully prepared to see him grinning, but you note his grim expression and then your eyes catch at his once long hair and you promptly sit up.

“ _Bloody hell_ , Charlie…” You murmur, your fingers coming to gently touch his now short locks. He doesn’t pull away – frankly, he does not move at all, simply regards you in quiet sadness. Your hand falls before it can reach him. “I guess your mum wasn’t joking when she said  _enjoy it while it lasts_ …” you mumble with a soft frown knitting your brows, trying to ease him with a tender smile but it hardly works. Desperate and not wanting him to feel down any longer, your fingers grasp a hold of his wrist and his blue eyes flicker to you, “I think you still look dashing.” You admit, and he blushes behind his freckles.

“…Thank you, (Name). Means a lot… _Really_.” You are pleased with his answer and you hardly contain it.

“ _Oi_! (Name)—“ Tonks yells, right behind you. The two of you snap your head to her, “ _Woah_!” Her eyes land on Charlie, “The  _hell_  happened? What’s with the hairdo? Got tired of brushing every morning?” She falls silent, thoughtful, “I get you…I do. Did the same thing, too.” She finishes with a grin, falling to her knees right in front of you. Her hand lands on yours, “Anyway, (Name), you should’ve seen what me and the twins did! We took this invention of Tulip’s and—“

“Blimey, is that smoke?” Charlie mumbles. You blink. The air tints with the smell of burning wood.

“ _Oh no_.”

“Oh  _yes_!…Wait, why are you panicking?!”

000

Tulip’s invention turned out to be a fake fire charm that lit anything it touched in flames, but never actually harmed. The prank was intended to scare Ronald to death, and it had worked, and the twins were snickered as Bill tried to calm down the poor boy. A crisis was avoided. Charlie’s new haircut was greeted with light mocking and acceptance.

“It looks lovely, Charlie.” Rowan had reassured.

“Oh, well now you really  _are_  copying our style.” One twin whined.

“Well said, George.”

But you had wandered away from the commotion and joined Barnaby on the staircase. Charlie thinks he even saw the two of you hugging, giggling,  _bonding_. That did not sit well with him, and once Ronald stopped crying and mum took him away to play inside with Ginny and Rowan, he approached Bill worriedly.

“Hey, now that you can’t wear a pony-tail, mind if I steal your look?” Bill asks, deep in thought, “Having my hair loose is tougher than it looks.”

“ _Bill_.” Charlie calls him, a bit impatient, “Can I…talk to you?”

Bill gives him a look, “Aren’t you already?”

“It’s about (Name).”

“No,  _really_? I’m stunned. The only thing you ever talk about is ( _Name_ ). And dragons…More of (Name) these days, though.”

“I think she likes someone else.” Charlie admits. Bill’s playful demeanour falls.

“And why do you think so?”

“I saw her. And Barnaby. They were… _hugging_.”

Bill wanted to tease him. He really  _really_  did, but seeing Charlie so defeated and distraught made him reconsider. His little brother is asking him for advice and he must be responsible and caring. He will tease him at a different time, he is sure there will be plenty of opportunities to do so, “Barnaby is a good lad.” Bill says after a while, and Charlie’s shoulders slump, “ _But_ …I don’t think (Name) fancies him. They are  _good friends_ , mind you, but between you and me? Rowan mentioned (Name) having a crush. And it’s  _not_  Barnaby.”

“Who is it, then?” Charlie questions, “If it’s Penny I don’t stand a chance.”

“No one stands a chance against Penny, but it’s not her, either.”

“Then who?”

“Blimey, Charlie, get a hold of yourself and ask her. It’s still the same (Name) that spilled ink on your robes in History.”

“ _What_?” Charlie frowns, “ _No_. No it’s  _not_. She’s  _three_  years older now.”

“Just go and talk to her before I do.”

Charlie narrows his eyes at Bill, “ _You wouldn’t_.”

“Try me, Romeo.”

000

Late night. The sky is inky black and stars like glass shards glimmer outside the open window. Dim oil lamps light up the small interior of Bill and Charlie’s room. Tonks is nestled into her sleeping bag, on the ground, next to Rowan and Barnaby as the trio snore, long asleep. Bill sits on his bed, his face blushed from the heat, as he shows another picture of baby-Charlie – in this one he has pigtails. You slap a hand over your mouth, eyes twinkling with silent laughter as you admire the picture and glance at the teen Charlie sitting beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush, as he looks at the photograph with a mixture of mortification and amusement.

“Did you braid them?” You ask Bill quietly. He grins proudly.

“I dressed him, too.” He points out, “Embroiled a dragon on all of his clothes. He would cry unless I did.”

“No I wouldn’t.” Charlie mumbles. You have a hard time believing him.

Bill rolls his eyes, “That and a—“

“- _Niffler_.” You finish for him, giving the picture back with a small smile, “I know. It’s his second favourite.”

“You remember that?” Charlie blinks stupidly.

You nod, “ _Of course_  I do. You told me during Care of Magical Creatures. Don’t  _you_  remember?”

“I do, it’s just that I figured you wouldn’t…”

“Why did you figure that?”

“Is it just me or am in  _desperate_  need of some pumpkin juice  _at this very moment?”_ Bill intervenes not-so-subtly, standing up, “I’ll be right back, but not  _right_  back, you know? Need anything from the kitchen? It’s quite  _far_  away so sorry but the journey will be  _tremendously long_.” He doesn’t exactly wait for either of you to answer as he skilfully avoids the sleeping human obstacles and heads out the door, it clicking shut a moment later.

Silence. Crickets chirp from outside and Bill’s dull footsteps echo downwards.

“Should I question it?”

“ _Nope_.” Charlie sighs, “Just ignore him. It’s best for all this way, really.”

“…Well,  _anyway_ …” You start, unsure, “I just…I wanted to thank you.” You say, a shy smile pinching your cheeks. Idly, you pull a stand of your hair behind your ear, “For inviting us to stay over.”

“ _Oh_ …” Charlie blushes under the warm light, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. It was Bill’s idea.”

“That’s not what Bill said.”

“It was my idea.”

“That’s more like it. Well, either way.  _Thank you_. It’s been…a  _fun_  day.” You admit, “I was hoping that…We could play Quidditch tomorrow?” You ask, hopefully. Charlie grins.

“Sure. Of course. You never played before, have you? That’s fine, I can teach you. Or Bill can. But I can, too.”

“You teaching me is fine.” You say, “Later we can have a friendly match.  _You and I versus Tonks and Bill_. Rowan and Barnaby can be the judges.”

“Sounds brilliant to me.” He agrees, eagerly.

Unbeknownst to either of you, you had been leaning into one another, some force like a magnet pulling you close. Before he knows what he is doing, his fingers graze the side of your cheek, a sheepish smile on his lips, as you blink your lashes in the cute way you do. He feels your breath on his lips and promptly snaps awake. Embarrassed and awkward he jerks away, and you do, too, scooting a bit further as to not invade his personal bubble anymore. Clearing your throat, you slip onto the ground and inside your sleeping bag, one you promised to share with Tonks, as you murmur, “ _Goodnight_ , Charlie.”

Still unable to look at you, he watches the ceiling, counting dust particles as they helplessly fall, “… _Night_ , (Name).”

_Merlin_ , and there is still a whole week left of your stay! If this is the start of the holiday, how will it end?!


	2. at least 15 reasons why quidditch is bloody difficult.

A sunny afternoon. The rye sways from a light breeze as bees buzz idly by flowers. Ginny Weasley shyly watches the older kids from the save haven of the kitchen, her mother already preparing lunch and nudging her once in a while to go help. Her doe eyes wander to the kind one, Rowan, sitting on the grass next to the boy who had been hanging around the attic all day yesterday. The two of them are not talking, merely sitting close with their heads tilted upwards. Her gaze then wanders to her two older brothers – Charlie and Bill – engaged in a furious Quidditch match with the mischievous Tonks and adventurous (Name).

Ginny feels bad for (Name), to be honest. The girl is not fairing that well. But can she really be blamed? Charlie gets  _stupidly_  competitive during Quidditch.

“You’ve got to be—“ Tonks grumbles, nearly losing her balance once Bill wheezes past her, the quaffle she was securing now tightly in his grasp, “– _Bloody hell_  you Weasleys! Next time I’m burning down the shed for real!” They score another point and Rowan has to cover her ears from the cursing, “( _Name_ )!” She screams as you seamlessly reach her level, “Bloody brilliant on the broom, you are, but blimey do you  _suck_  at Quidditch.”

You wipe drops of sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, “Well, I  _never_ …played before…” You reply, breathless, blushed, and a bit light-headed from the heat. Charlie zooms into eyesight and Tonks flares.

“ _You_!” She points an accusing finger and the boy grins, “You bloody git,  _you_! You  _promised_  to teach her! Not go into destruction mode as soon as we’re in the air!” She then gestures to you, “I’m basically handicapped.”

“ _Aw_ , Tonks, don’t take it personally,” Bill says, nudging her shoulder, “Charlie just  _really likes_  to show off.”

“I for one would  _really like_  to learn the rules first.” You admit sheepishly, glancing at Charlie. His hand goes to run his fingers through his hair, yet suddenly halts as he remembers that his long hair is now, to put it bluntly,  _chopped_   _off_. He sighs, but catching your gaze a small grin forms on his face.

“I was  _not_  showing off.” He declares. Tonks rolls her eyes with a frustrated sigh; Bill doesn’t believe him, “How about it, (Name)? You and me,  _one on one_? Promise to go easy on you.” You nod in agreement. Tonks saunters to you, her hand landing on your shoulder.

“Listen, I love you,” She whispers into your ear, watching the Weasley boys cautiously, “but you are  _God awful_  at this and you better use  _everything_  you have to win. Fling yourself off the broom, give him a heart attack, kiss him in mid-air, I  _don’t bloody care_  what you do, but  _win_  this.  _Not personal_  my arse…” Her eyes level with you and you are taken aback by their intensity, “You win this.  _No matter what_.”

“No matter what.” You repeat dumbly. She grins, pleased, clapping your shoulder for good measure.

Before long, you and Charlie are the only ones in the air.

The wind caresses your face and arms, brushes the strands of your hair. The sun rains down in harsh rays that burn and collect oils on your skin. You take in a deep breath to steady yourself. Quidditch demands focus and precision, sometimes brute force, but you are playing against a seasoned player and you have to be  _smart_  about this. What do you have and he doesn’t? Well, you are a girl. You could try flashing him a smile or wink your way to victory. But that is playing dirty and you would never stoop so low! The correct answer is you know how to  _broom surf_  and if he’s showing off there is absolutely no reason you shouldn’t!

You steady yourself. He asks you if you are ready with that cheeky grin of his never leaving his face. You state that you were born ready. The match starts without more deliberation.

You can tell he is going easy on you. Tonks screams cusses and cheers alike from the ground as Rowan tries to shush her, afraid to death that Mrs Weasley will hear. You appreciate the head start, but now it is just silly to be losing on purpose. You now know how to play. There is no reason not to be as merciless as before. In one swift move you grab the quaffle out of his grip, your fingers nearly digging themselves into his arm by accident. Increasing speed, you take in a quick breath as you approach the goal line. Throw it a bit to the right and ten points are yours. Straight and five are in the bag. Wind howls in your ears. The back of your neck picks as you feel him steadily approaching.  _Now or never_ , you think, a delirious giggle falling from your lips as a crazed twinkle glisters in your eye.

Showing off is just  _so much fun_!

Taking a sharp turn, you use your hand as a boost and stealthily jump onto the broom, your sneakers balancing perfectly on the slick surface. You grin wickedly.

“(Name),  _no_!” Rowan yells.

“(Name),  _yes_!” Tonks screams, fist bumping the air, “Yes _, you wild wife of mine_ , yes!  _You show that Weasley bastard his place!_ ” Giggidy with glee, she continues, “You’re  _bloody brilliant_! I never doubted you!”

With one hand holding the quaffle, you aim to throw and—

You suddenly feel like…you are floating.

You broom zooms past without you, horrid screams of both Rowan and Tonks reaching your ears as a faraway howl. Gravity takes hold of your body – the quaffle helplessly slips through your fingers – as you are suddenly struck with overwhelming fear. It all feels quiet for a single moment before reality strikes you and you fall. You tense to the brink of tears, ready for impact. Your breath is knocked out of you as you land on something hot and oddly humanlike. The baby blue of the sky and the halo of the sun is the only thing you can focus on.

A groan from underneath you. Your bones feel like glass and muscles ache from the lightest movement.

“( _Name_ )!” Rowan calls, rushing to your side, “(Name) are you okay?!”

“When I said ‘ _fling yourself off the broom_ ’ I didn’t mean it literally!” Tonks complains, yet her voice betrays a mixture of frustration and worry. Mrs Weasley screams something at Charlie and he promptly lands, shimmering somewhere just out of your line of vision. Rowan wraps her fingers around your wrists and attentively eases you into sitting up. Your vision spins with stars and Rowan pales. Her grip tightens just enough to keep you in place. Tonks’ anxious gaze travels between you and the figure underneath you, “Are… _Are you okay_ , Barnaby?”

You vaguely register landing on Barnaby, your mind still in the state of shock. You tremble a bit. Barnaby, with another groan, sits up and his chest hits your back, “I’m fine.” He murmurs, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, “I think.”

“(Name)…” Rowan grabs at your attention, “(Name),  _you with us_?”

You blink a few times, “Yeah, I…” Barnaby’s arm snakes its way around your waist to keep you from swaying, “I… _yeah_. I’m good just…Never mind. I’m okay. I’m here.”

000

To say Charlie is grounded is an understatement. He is  _super_  grounded. His mum had nearly had a heart attack when she glanced out the window and saw you hit the ground like an ungraceful bird that hadn’t learned how to fly yet. She is beyond grateful that Bill was with Ginny at the time, because Merlin knows if the girl was to see you nearly cracking your head open she would be wailing for hours. That being said, Charlie was in hot water and his mum’s silence was a warning of the storm to come. At first she only yelled at him a bit, ordered him to go to his room and stay there until she fixes the damage. He assumed her next move was to heal you and Barnaby, which she of course did. But when she came up to his room…

He is still shivering, three hours later. He never should have tried to show off, of course you are prideful enough to want to follow in his example and even upstage him. You had no idea the quaffle would mess up your balance. How could you? You are reckless and unaware of how to properly play Quidditch! This was a disaster waiting to happen.

Charlie sits on Bill’s bed and watches his friends playing outside. Even from so high up he can see you wearing a white bandage around your head. His mum must have insisted on it, even if you are perfectly okay now. She probably did it to remind Charlie, knowing that he would sulk and watch his friends have fun without him, of what he had done and why he deserves to sit in this stuffy, hot room alone. His mum may look like an angel, but Merlin’s Beard, she is  _evil_ incarnated.

He opens the window and sighs. He really does feel ill. He did not even notice you drop first he was so stunned at your  _broomtastic_  moves. Not to mention your skirt might have flipped up a few times, so that was insanely distracting as well. He swears, one moment he is awing at your form and the next you are on the ground, Barnaby squashed as the boy tried to catch you. Charlie grumbles under his breath. Barnaby  _again_. Honestly, if he reacted quickly enough he would have caught you himself. He would have swooped in and pulled you close, grinning devilishly as you blushed.

Yes, what a nice daydream indeed, but he did  _not_ turn into Prince Charming and save you and you could have gotten seriously hurt.

And now you are chatting with Barnaby. Is that a book you are reading? His eyes narrow, trying to get a better look. Should he get binoculars? At the very least if something funny happens he will be in the loop when his friends all return after a day’s worth of activities back to his room. But would it be considered spying then? He watches you and Barnaby giggle as he thinks. His mum probably forbade you to come see him,  _right_? There is no way you would be so carefree if you knew he is locked up,  _right_?

A knock on the door makes him jerk and turn to eye it curiously. Another knock. Then another. And another.

“ _Right_ , it’s…open? I think.” He says to the visitor. The wooden door budges but the lock keeps it in place. He hears a hiss from behind it, and then a mutter of a spell. The lock clicks open. Tonks pokes her pink head out and grins at him.

“Your cavalry is here, Milady.” She says cheekily, sneaking into the room and shutting the door behind her.

“I’m…supposed to be grounded?”

“Yea yea, that’s why I’m here. To smuggle you out.” She admits, plopping down on his bed. “ _Oooo_ , comfy.”

“Not sure my mum would appreciate that.”

Tonks sends him a glare, “ _What_? You scared or something?”

“I have no fear.” He dismisses her with a scoff, glancing out the window. In the yard, he sees Barnaby holding your hand as he sputters words out. Charlie’s blood runs cold; he turns to Tonks greatly alarmed, “I have  _one_  fear.”

“You remember that rumour Hogwarts started about you, (Name), and Bill exploring the forbidden forest?” Tonks asks casually. Charlie groans.

“ _Please_  don’t remind me.” He mumbles. She frowns.

“ _Yeah_ , well if you don’t go get her she’ll be  _exploring_  with Lee.”

“Tonks, ew—“

“Don’t you  _ew_  me!” She fusses, “Come on, pull yourself together. Go talk to her before it’s too late!”

Her words strike urgency. Barnaby might be confessing his love for you  _at this very moment_ , because he sure looked like he was a moment ago! If Charlie doesn’t act now, he might lose you forever…

“ _Yeah_ …” He mutters breathless, “Yeah! I’ll tell her how I feel!” He finishes, his voice strong with determination. Tonks promptly sits up.

“That’s the Charlie Weasley I know!  _Fearless_!” She exclaims. He gives her a look, “Yea, right,  _one_  fear, kay, now let’s go before (Name) decides Barnaby is more than just a cushion.”


End file.
